


Everything is Real on TV, Pt1

by lady_mab



Series: Carlyle & Co. [1]
Category: Lockwood & Co. - Jonathan Stroud
Genre: Gen, Reality TV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-23
Updated: 2016-07-23
Packaged: 2018-07-26 08:29:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7567216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lady_mab/pseuds/lady_mab
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carlyle & Co., the nation's most popular reality TV series, is looking to hire a fourth Agent. The final four applicants are a mixed bunch, but Lucy isn't going to let that daunt her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is for the Lockwood & Co. Big Bang on Tumblr!! Big thanks to my beta, [Ariel](http://archiveofourown.org/users/dauntlesspokemonride), for plowing through this monster and helping me out! Art up at the end of August.

My fingers itched for the mug of tea that sat just outside of my reach. My head still stung from the last time I reached for it and the hairdresser gave a sharp tug of the strands in her grip. As if sensing my intention, she met my eyes in the mirror and frowned.

"Michelle is trying to get you to stop drinking so much tea, you know," she said and gave another pass of the straightener over an unruly wave. Why they had to make my hair pin-straight all the time, I don't know. "Stains your teeth."

I released a puff of breath. "What is the point of a makeup team if they're not going to take care of that for me and just let me enjoy a cup in the morning."

"You drink enough of it during the day. How you lot don't spend half the show in the loo, I'll never understand."

"That’s what the well-placed commercial break is for." This earned me a snort of laughter. As the hairdresser set aside the straightener and reached for the hairspray, I lurched forward to down the rest of my tea. "Listen, they make me wake up at ungodly hours after spending the night hunting ghosts just so they can make me look presentable. The least they can do is let me have my cuppa."

Her response was cut off when the door to my dressing room burst open and Holly breezed in. Every hair in place, flawless as always, even at 7am. "How is the process coming?" she asked in a tone that meant _we should have started filming an hour ago_.

I hold my mug aloft in greeting. "How is George coming?"

Her lips twitched in a frown, and that was response enough for me. No matter how much the hairdressers and makeup team have done, George never looks any different. Still pasty, still like sour milk, and hair still a stringy mop -- so much so, that I'm pretty sure they just gave up and no longer bother. I'm pretty sure Holly takes care of her hair and makeup herself, as she looks hardly any different since when we started the show. I'm the only one that has to suffer for a noticeable difference.

All the same, I appreciated Holly and how put-together she is. Without her, there would be no show, and we'd be scraping by for cases.

"The final four candidates will be here by 7:30am, and we'll start the interviews at 8:30 after their hair and makeup. You have reviewed their files, haven't you?"

"Of course. They are far more interesting and organized than George's case notes." My bag leaned against the legs of my chair. "You haven't told me your thoughts on them yet, and all their files are very impersonal."

Holly gave me a thin smile and snatched the almost-empty mug from my hands. "I wouldn't want to taint your impression of any of them before you meet them."

Over the last few months, in order to boost the ratings for our humble little show, Holly had been conducting interviews and a series of tests for potential candidates. George and I, on the other hand, kept up with our normal routine of eliminating the Visitors for our clients.

Probably the only good thing about having to turn my small team into the subject of a reality television show: increase in business. And, conversely, it made the Problem a bit more tolerable for those having to deal with it. Adults who have lost their Talents constantly send us fan mail thanking us, as now those who were unable to See or Hear things can understand what it is like.

Admittedly, I find the whole debacle a little unnecessary. I have to explain what I Hear so that the sound effects can be added in after. The film crew that comes along with us were saved from a place among the Night Watch, though the rest of the production team is made up of adults. And, true to my desire to have no adults involved with my team, Holly has limited their involvement to prevent any direct dealings with us and our investigations.

All in all, a good deal.

Of course, our ratings have been dropping a bit -- though I don't blame them. There's only so long one can tolerate George in person. I can't imagine how hard it must be dealing with him on the TV screen. As usual, it was Holly's idea to host interviews for a new team member.

Today was the day that George and I got to meet the final four, the ones who stood up to Holly's inscrutable opinion: Anthony Lockwood, Quill Kipps, Kat Godwin and Florence Bonnard.

The hairstylist covers my eyes with her hand and applies a cover of hairspray to my locks. "All done. Makeup will be in shortly."

I groaned as Holly thanked the woman.

"It doesn't have to be a chore every time, you know," Holly scolded. "If you just put at least _some effort_ \--"

"I wouldn't have to if we weren't on TV, so I don't see why I have to just because we are." I plucked one of the folders from my bag, just to give me something to distract myself.

"Lucy," she said, rounding my chair to place her hands on the arms and lean in. "There is a reason that George is not the face of this Investigation team."

I don't back down, because I know better than to show any sort of weakness around Holly. "That wouldn't happen to be because I formed the Psychic Investigation team and named it Carlyle & Co.?"

She smiled thinly. "It would have been a terrible shame to replace you after all the effort went into branding. But viewers want to see a pretty face on their televisions. And between you and George, well." She leaned back, crossed her arms over her chest, and arched a knowing eyebrow. "The choice was simple."

A knock came from the door of my dressing room and Holly moved to let in Michelle from makeup.

"Remember," Holly called as she stepped back out into the hall, "Interviews start at 8:30."

"Only if you can wrangle George into some semblance of order."

"Already on it," she replied, and closed the door behind her.


	2. Chapter 2

The living room of the house had been converted into a miniature studio. I insisted, back when we first started producing the episodes, that we keep the base of operations in the house. It was far easier than moving the rest of our ghost hunting equipment to a studio's impersonation of what one of the larger agencies used.

Holly agreed, saying that it made it feel more personal and the impression that anyone could be an Agent. (While I understood that line of reasoning from a marketing perspective, with the production of toy rapiers and little plush spirits on an uphill spree since our show came out, the truth was that not everyone could be an Agent. Our show just made everyone want to feel like they could be.)

Of course, it also meant that there was absolutely no personal space. When we're organizing our equipment, when we're doing research, when we're on a case -- the cameras were always running.

George was overseeing the arrangement of the tea tray by craft services, inputting unnecessary comments much to the server's irritation. He looked up when I came in, nudging his glasses up his nose. "You look very put together this morning, Miss Carlyle."

"And you look your usual slovenly self, Mr. Cubbins," I replied, and he grinned in reply. "Ready to meet the potential new recruits?"

"Ran into one of them in the bathroom. Square sort. Ah, before I forget." He leaned over and fetched his knapsack from where it rested in the dipped couch cushion. George pushed off the flap to reveal a red plastic plug -- I didn't even need to see the rest to know what was in the jar that it sealed off.

A bark of a laugh escaped me before I could reign it in. "A little decoration?"

"Up to you, boss."

"I think it would look very nice next to the serving tray, don't you?"

"My thoughts exactly." Without further ado, George scooped the jar out of the knapsack and placed it right behind the tea service. It was a silver-glass jar, the swirling ectoplasm inside parting every so often to reveal the grinning edifice of a skull.

A grisly enough sight on its own, but George and I knew it was more than a little decoration.

Holly breezed into the living room, pulling up short when she saw the jar. "No," she said immediately, regaining her momentum as she moved toward it. "Absolutely not."

"Oh c'mon, Holly," George cooed, moving to cut her off. "You got to interview the candidates in your own way. Let Luce and I have a little fun."

"Do you plan on scaring them all with your disgusting little tricks?"

"Says the girl who made them try to sense something from the cup I keep my toothbrush in."

"Apparently it's a very haunted cup." I dropped down into my customary chair, crossing my hands over my stomach and looking up at Holly. "The skull stays."

Holly made a disgusted noise and tossed her hands into the air. "I swear to God, Lucy, if you start talking to the skull when the cameras are running, I will dump that jar into the nearest incinerator so fast."

The rest of the crew had been slowly filtering in during our conversations. They were almost all in place now as they adjusted the lights and cameras.

Being able to Hear things, while not a rare talent, was certainly more difficult to convey to viewers than Seeing. The spirit that exists inside the jar talks a lot for something that only I can hear, and while George had accepted this as a fact of life and moved on, Holly still doubts the validity of my claims that it was something the ghost said and not me.

As if on cue, the ectoplasm formed a fierce, fleeting grin and a voice floated from the tiny grate in the lid. _Charming, isn't she?_

George took his seat on the couch, dumping the now empty knapsack on the floor next to his feet.

Holly handed me a series of note cards that I flipped through as the final light tests were made and the director briefed the crew. Talking points for each of the candidates so it actually sounded like I spent more time with them than having just met them today.

"Here goes nothing, eh?" I asked George as we were given the final countdown.

He flashed me a thumbs up and a grin, but it very well could have also been directed to the skull between us.

I pushed down the nerves I always got while in front of the camera and put on as charming a smile as I could manage. Facing down Visitors? No problem. Facing down my reflection in a camera? No thank you.

"Hello viewers! Thank you for the words of encouragement and support over our social media last night as George and I faced down that Specter. Hopefully, with a future fourth member added to Carlyle & Co., it will only get easier from here. As always, keep an eye on our Twitter and Facebook feeds for more useful tips at successful warding for your home, and be sure to call in a trained Agency against anything you're uncertain about."

The plasm in the jar swirled, and I spared a quick glance down at it. The image wouldn't be able to convey very well over the cameras. Most of the ghost we sighted and dealt with had to be added in later so that adults and others with weaker Talents could actually see what we saw. No one knew to edit in the plasm of the ghost in the jar, so they would likely just see a grisly skull grinning behind tea.

Which was sort of the idea. George and I wouldn't want anyone who couldn't even sense the ghost on our team. A small test of our own during the interview process.

"Now, as you know, the current four candidates have gone through several stages of tests after the initial interview, so they have been hand selected by our very own Holly Munro. A few nights ago, these four agents went out on a case together and passed it with flying colors." My fingers drummed against the edge of the cards. _Flying colors_ was a bit of an overstatement. It was very obvious where their strengths lay, and not all of them were on the field.

I took a breath and glanced down at the cards. "The first candidate is a talented fencer, having won several awards for his skill with the blade. That will certainly come in handy, wouldn't it, George?"

He glared at me, then harrumphed something that might have been a response. I could imagine Holly's groan of disapproval from behind the cameras, but I kept my smile in place.

"Everyone, please give a warm welcome to Quill Kipps."

 _I hope they add a laugh track to this one,_ the skull supplies. _Or at least a round of applause or something._

Truth be told, I had never actually watched a single episode of our show beyond the pilot, that Holly forced us to sit down and watch, and then the episode where the contestants went through their own case. I was not big on television in general. I had no idea if they added clap tracks or whatever.

My thoughts were derailed as the slight young man strode into the living room from wherever they kept the contestants. He was about my height, only thinner, with close-cropped auburn hair. His smile was calculated to the perfect degree. He had not performed terribly well during the case, sword work aside. But it was the perfect television charm that Holly was aiming for. I figured that he was her main choice.

"Miss Carlyle," he said as I rose to my feet. He shook my hand with a warm smile. "Big fan of yours. An honor to be here, truly."

"Thank you, Mr. Kipps. Please, have a seat."

"Tea?" George asked, not even bothering to rise.

Kipps glanced from George, then to the service. He jerked back at the sight of the contents of the jar, but didn't comment or react at the way the ectoplasm swirled into a devilish face. "No, thank you."

 _Either he's very good, or he can't See as well as he wants us to believe,_ the skull said. I was inclined to agree.

George shrugged, completely unphased by the skull by this point, and served himself a cup. "Lucy?"

"Please." My hands shook in my lap, but at least the saucer would give me something to hold on to. I wouldn't be able to take any cookies -- I wore a black suit that would display any crumbs for all to see.

We talked briefly about his past as an Agent, his time under the silver banner of Fittes before he left in order to pursue a more challenging career. ( _Didn't want to be a useless Supervisor, I bet,_ the skull offered.) He held several titles for fencing, having started even before his Talent had developed.

Quill Kipps left for backstage, and there was a brief moment of downtime as I swigged down my tea -- only to wince at the cold liquid.

George rose to his feet and moved to stand in front of me, making another cut of tea to replace the one I hadn't even touched during the conversation. "Try not to look too nervous. Fans can smell fear."

I managed a laugh, and pushed his arm. "Great, that helps a lot. One down and three to go and now I'm thinking about the fans watching this turning into sharks."

"You clearly haven't read any of the Twitter comments have you?"

My blood rushed from my face and I very nearly drop the tea saucer that George pressed into my hands. "No. Why? What do they say?"

He laughed. "Nothing. Just teasing."

"George!"

"Any good tips from our friend?" He nodded in the direction of the skull.

I took a fortifying gulp, closing my eyes and enjoying the sense of calm. "Nothing that you probably haven't already figured out."

"Right. Well, here comes number two. We'll compare notes later." George retook his seat and resumed his bored expression.

Contestant number two was Florence Bonnard, a tall and gangly girl who had hair the same color as George's. She slouched in and gave the pair of us cursory nods. Then she pointed at the skull before George could offer tea and asked, "That thing do impersonations?"

I was startled for a moment, but quickly recovered and leaned forward. "What do you mean?"

"I mean it's making a face at me, and I'm wondering if I ask, if it would do, I dunno, the Queen or summat."

I glanced at George, and he was doing a very poor job of hiding his amusement. "Who knows," he said. "Perhaps it might."

 _You can tell both of them that I most certainly do not_.

I draped a napkin over the jar, ignoring the skull's pointed insults at my heritage and George's frown. Florence passed that bit. "Now, Ms Bonnard--"

"Flo, please. Ms Bonnard sounds like a school teacher." She relaxed in her chair with her hands crossed over her stomach.

"Flo, then," I echoed, already a little uncertain how this interview would go. She had hung back during the case but her Sight was superb -- that much was evident as she had easily spotted the skull. "You were the one that was able to crack the location of the Source on the case the other night. Care to tell us a little bit about it?"

The case had been picked by Holly, and approved by George and myself. I wasn't big on research, so George spent some time in between researching our Phantasm case pulling together clues for them. He wanted to be able to solve the puzzle before any of the others did.

She and George went off discussing the facts of the case, which of course caused him to belie his own interest in the whole set-up. That, I knew, Holly would hold over his head later considering how much he fought the idea.

Flo left with as much pomp as she arrived, and I set aside my empty cup of tea. At least I didn't need to talk so much during that interview. She seemed to get along well enough with George, which was a miracle in it's own because he was an acquired taste.

I nabbed a cookie during this break, which prompted makeup to have to come and make sure I hadn't smudged anything out of place. Apparently George, with his collection of crumbs on the front of his shirt and sloppy hair, was a lost cause.

Kat Godwin was third, striding in ramrod straight and shaking my hand with a curt movement. She was young, and pretty in a snobby and stuck-up sort of way. Probably wanted to get her face on television before trying for one of the larger Agencies. All the same, she was good -- her participation in the case proved it.

Nothing seemed to crack her placid expression, so I try for a little humor. "Ms Godwin, I hear you and I have the same Talent."

 _Oh boy,_ the skull said as George struggled to contain his snerks of laughter.

She blinked, eyes flicking away from mine for a moment (was she looking at the cloth covered skull, or George?). "Yes," she replied, voice as steely as her eyes. "We are both able to Hear things."

"I understand you were able to help pick up the location of Phantasm that the four of you hunted down. Care to give us any details? You know as well as I that it is much harder to convey our Talent across a television to the audience." I smiled politely, hoping to get her to warm up just a little, but nothing worked. "It led you on quite the chase before Flo was able to locate the source."

Kat snorted and tossed her perfectly styled short blonde hair. (Holly must love her. She looked so put together compared to George and I.) "Yes, _Flo_. In all honesty, if they had listened to me in the first place when I had said I heard the whispering sounds from the other end of the house, we wouldn't have gone on that chase."

That had been a little cringe-worthy to watch, but George and I have made similar mistakes so I didn't fault them for it. "As any Agency knows, it is very important to map out the entire path that the Visitor can take."

"After all," George added from around a bite of cookie. Kat looked utterly put off by the sight, and I couldn't really blame her. "Once you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth."

She looked him up and down, a thick layer of ice settling in over her expression. "I don't think you're using that quote correctly."

"What George is _trying_ to say," I cut in, "was that it was necessary to eliminate all possibilities before verifying the Source."

Kat waved her hand in an airy fashion, either dismissing what I had said or possibly the foul odor that clung to George. I couldn't be too sure. "I hardly think I would be a competent Agent if I could not quickly and properly identify a Source in order to eliminate it. wouldn't you agree?"

"Er," I said eloquently, looking at George.

"Hm," George added, looking at me.

Kat offered a narrow smiled, thin on patience. "Still, I suppose we bagged it in the end, didn't we?" She rose to her feet, offered a stiff but polite bow, and showed herself out of the room.

That... most definitely did not go well.

 _Wow. I'm embarrassed for you,_ the skull muttered from beneath the napkin. I groaned.

"I think she's gunning for your spot, Lucy," George chuckled around a cookie. "There was murder in her eyes."

"I don't want to think about it." I snatched the napkin off the jar, glaring at the skull for good measure. I couldn't verbally reprimand it without the camera crew thinking I had gone crazy. The conversations I hold with the skull are between me and the skull only -- and admittedly, George and Holly trying not to look like I'm too crazy holding a one-sided conversation.

"Last chance for cookies." George waved one in my face.

I sighed and shook my head. "We should have craft services refill it for the last person. You're eating too many of them."

"I'm bored."

"You could contribute some more."

"I contributed for Flo."

I rolled my eyes. "At least try to make an effort for the last one, okay? After this, then we get to pick our case."

George made a dramatic flourish with his hands, spraying a faint mist of crumbs around us. "Things I eagerly await."

I dusted off my suit.

The camera crew did one final countdown. I forced on the final smile and announced the final contestant: Anthony Lockwood.

He strode into the room with the same sort of self-assured confidence that the three before him did. Unlike Kat, he was grinning broadly. Unlike Kipps and Flo, his was a charming sort of expression. "Miss Carlyle. Mr Cubbins. I would say it's truly an honor to be here, but I understand that one of my competitors beat me to it." He shook my hand as he spoke, clasping it warmly between both of his own before moving towards George.

Lockwood hesitated mid pivot, turning to look down at the skull.

For once, the plasm floated there in the shape of a skull without any sort of expression. It only stared, and Lockwood stared right back.

"I don't think your head in a jar likes me that much," he commented, giving a brief jerk of his thumb when he finally shook George's hand.

"What makes you think that?" I asked, waiting until Lockwood sat before taking my own seat.

"Well, it's just sitting there. I thought it might have been a bit more frightening." He waved a hand to dismiss it and turned the hundred watt smile on me.

A little part of my stomach sank. It certainly sounded like Lockwood might be in the same boat as Kipps, and hinging on his skills as a swordsman instead of his Sight in order to make it onto the team. Still, couldn't let that show, because Holly wouldn't have let him pass this far if it had been something that simple.

We chatted about his past as a freelance Agent, and his role on the most recent case. He had done a great job quietly organizing the others in a direction.

"Would you say that you're a natural born leader?"

"Far from it," he replied. "I thrive in a group setting."

George arched an eyebrow and took an unnecessarily long sip of tea. "And yet you worked as a freelancer for several years?"

Lockwood laughed, and it was such a charming sound that I felt a small laugh bubble up in my chest as well. "Admittedly, I did a lot of my best work when smaller Agencies hired me as an extra sword or a consultant."

His smile hesitated, and his gaze flickered to the side. "I say, does that thing always tend to just stare like that?"

George and I looked at the jar. "Well," George said slowly, "it is a skull."

"No, I mean..." Lockwood gestured at his own face, struggling to find the words -- as if he wasn't certain that we saw what he was seeing. "The ectoplasm. Does it always exert the effort to form a face if all it does is stare? It is sort of like one of those statues whose eyes follow you when you move."

 _I think I like annoying this one,_ the skull said, and I had to bite my tongue to keep from replying.

George must have seen the strain on my face because he had to turn a snort into a cough and smother it with one hand.

"What Type is it?" Lockwood was testing his theory about the Skull's face following him as he moved.

"Not too sure," George admitted, controlling his amusement long enough to reply. "Never really seen anything like it."

"No, I'd imagine not." Lockwood, his back momentarily to the camera as he faced the jar, grinned at me like we shared a private joke. I suppose we must have, because the jar, by all rights, should have been destroyed or locked away by the Fittes agency.

But it was ours, and had been officially branded as Carlyle and Co. property, so they couldn't take it back without some sort of legal battle I would never be involved in.

_This one is quite clever. And don't think I don't notice you staring._

I turned sharply to glare at the jar, but noticed Lockwood's confused expression and George's quick jabbing _cut it out_.

"Mr Lockwood," I started, pushing myself to my feet and forcing him a step back so he was once again facing the camera. "I look forward to working with you in the final stages of the selection process for the new candidate."

The camera-worthy smile returned to its customary place on his narrow features. Lord, girls across the country must be swooning right now. But not me -- I was made of sterner stuff. Despite what the skull might think. "And I as well, Miss Carlyle."

We shook again, and George received a parting wave -- which he returned from his spot on the couch.

I heard the door to the back room close behind him as I smoothed out my expression and my suit, and turned my full attention back to the cameras. "Well, that's the lot of them. Be sure to tell us what you think of each contestant on our Facebook and Twitter pages. Holly, George and I will go over our own personal notes and then we'll all start on a big case together."

There was a shout from behind the glaring lights of the cameras, and then movement that indicated we had finished filming. My shoulders dropped and I grabbed the first cookie that I could to shove into my mouth.

Holly frowned as she moved to stand in front of me. "Watch your manners, Lucy."

"What? The cameras are off."

She rolled her eyes and did a better job of straightening my suit than I had. "This is reality TV. There are always cameras watching." She gave me a pointed look and brushed smartly at crumbs on my lapel. "You almost started talking to it."

I stepped back and took another cookie to busy myself. The plasm face had swirled out and all that remained was a green mist. "It was insulting my honor."

Holly rolled her eyes to the ceiling, as if asking a higher power to bestow her with more patience. "The cameras will be on while we compare notes. Did the ghastly thing give you any useful information before we move in there that I can twist to make sure it doesn't sound like you can hear things that other people can't?"

I hated it when Holly talked like I was crazy for being able to understand the skull. We never run across many agents that could Hear, and when we did, the skull remained silent. I never could test if other agents could hear it, or if it was just me.

I quickly relayed the skull's opinions and reactions to her. She nodded slowly, making careful notes in her small notebook.

_You left out the part where I caught you staring at that Lockwood chap._

I leaned forward and snapped the little grille shut so I wouldn't be able to hear the rest of what the skull wanted to add.

If George and Holly noticed, they didn't say anything.

"Alright, this is good. You can work most of it in normal conversation as an observation." Holly pocketed her notebook and regarded the jar.

The ectoplasm stuck out its tongue at her, and she frowned.

"George, be a dear and put that thing away before meeting us in the kitchen." Her tone meant _put that away or so help me God I will end you_. It was a tone that was meant to be obeyed.

So he did just that, scooping the jar back into his knapsack and disappearing down the hall. Once his feet began the laborious task of stomping upstairs, Holly tuck her arm into mine and led me towards the kitchen.

I knew what she was going to scold me about before we even took two steps.

"You let Godwin get to you."

A groan escaped me before I could wrangle it back in. "I know, I know. Why did you even pick her?"

Holly snorted, and that alone confirmed my suspicions for her preference for Kat's appearance on screen. "She is arguably the most efficient and professional out of all the choices."

I had seen her proceed through the interview and the case. I was inclined to agree. "But she doesn't get along with any of us."

"She and I had a perfectly civil conversation on numerous occasions."

"Alright, but you're like, an exception to every sort of rule."

Holly smiled at the not-quite compliment and patted my arm. "I wouldn't worry too much about it. The initial response was not entirely positive from social media for her."

"Kipps and Lockwood, on the other hand...?" I prompted, and she laughed.

"All in due time. Now, I've got to go collect the rest of the comments that we'll be using in the meeting. See you in the kitchen shortly." Before I could get too far, Holly caught onto my wrist. The genial expression was gone, replaced by her usual pout. "And don't let me catch you doodling on the cloth. It's brand new. I hate to have to get rid of this one so soon."

I groaned in response and she released me.


	3. Chapter 3

After the break, we met in the kitchen for a quick debrief of the interviews. George and I gave our opinions on each of the contestants, and Holly finally gave hers.

As I expected, she did prefer Kipps. She didn't mention Kat.

George appreciated Flo, noting her skills at research on the team which would give him a break (or a more suitable companion given my intense dislike for it), and double the speed in apprehending the spirit. Holly was inclined to agree, as it would also free up some of her time to spend with the lower-level consulting cases we receive on a daily basis.

As much as I saw the pros of having Flo on our team, I knew that George was too stubborn to let one person take the brunt of the researching. That would still leave me outnumbered on the physical side.

I put my vote in for Lockwood. Good with the rapier, and a keen enough Sight to pick up on skull's behavior. He also worked well in a constantly changing environment, shown by how he was able to adapt his own style to each of the other contestants.

"I'm sure the looks help too, eh?" George teased, munching away at yet another biscuit.

I looked up at him sharply, wondering if somehow the skull had decided to speak loud enough for even those pudgy, ill-working ears to hear him. But I couldn't press the topic. not with the cameras in our faces and airing our conversation to our thousands of viewers. "What's that supposed to mean?" I forced out unconvincingly.

"I _mean_ , if you're going to be working in such close quarters with someone, of course a girl would gravitate towards him." George slurped loudly at his tea.

"Listen, George, I didn't get a choice when it came to working with you," I snapped, and he only replied with a good-natured laugh. Of course, as much as I ribbed him, he and I got along famously. He was a friend first, and a coworker second.

Holly held up her hands to stop the argument before it could completely form. "We'll break for lunch and reconnect in an hour with the contestants. From there, we will select the case and start the research." She spoke a few words to the camera, or more properly, our viewers, and then it was over for an hour.

At least, largely over. The cameras are always watching, as Holly said earlier. But lunch was a priority, and so craft services hurried in with today's delights and George and I turned our conversation from work to the recent news, and I tried not to think about the upcoming hours.


	4. Chapter 4

All seven of us gathered into the basement level offices. The windows let in a lot of natural light, as it was still fairly early in the day, but the camera crew still provided their own and we had to stand about awkwardly waiting for the light tests to be completed.

Our followers on Twitter and Facebook voted for which case we were going to pick -- of course without knowing the context of any of the cases.

George would start research and I would commence rapier practice and checking our supplies stores. While Holly normally tried to keep us stocked at all times, I made a habit of double and triple checking everything when one time we showed up to a case only to realise that our iron filings weren't restocked and we had to make-due with shaky salt circles.

Once the cameras were rolling, I put on my Leadership Smile and turned to everyone. "Welcome to the next phase of the final interview. Our viewers picked out a case for us, and we're going to read the details for the first time on screen."

Holly, her customary spot on my right, stepped forward. "The final total has announced case number three as the winner," she said, handing me the envelope with a neatly penned '3' across the top. The other three envelopes were tucked beneath her arm. With a nod in my direction, she moved back towards the stairs that lead up to the kitchen.

That was the signal to begin.

I popped open the envelope and tossed it onto my desk.

It sounded like a fairly straightforward case. I read out the details to the rest of the team. George, at his desk, was already taking notes as I read.

The spirit was located in a marsh on the far edge of a lake. To one side, there was a new housing development for country homes and people with sailboats and enough time to go out to the countryside to fish without a care in the world. (I managed to keep the bulk of my personal opinion on the matter to myself.) The Night Watch have mentioned hearing voices on the far side of the lake. More recently, they have seen a slender figure lurking in what they know to be the marsh land beyond the lake, but have only experienced a slight malaise. They knew better than to get in a boat to investigate.

Preparation for a case is my home ground. I don't have to worry about the cameras focusing on me, because it's when I finally get to be myself.

I set the files down on George's desk. "It sounds like we have a Solitary on our hands. While we don't have to worry about a nearby ravine as temptation to fling ourselves off, we don't know how deep the water goes in the marsh or the lake."

"With it being in water most of our usual defenses are going to be useless," George added, pushing his fingers up his nose as he reached for the papers. "I'm going to suggest doubling up on flares and going light on the filings."

"What about the noises that the Night Watch reported to hearing?" Kat asked. Of course she would be the one to mention the voices.

To my surprise, Kipps spoke up before I could formulate a decent answer. "Solitaries have such a powerful ghost-lock that it gets into the victim's heads. Perhaps it is some sort of psychic response instigated by the malaise?"

She considered that answer, then looked to me.

I hesitated, also considering Kipps' answer before giving my own. "I was going to suggest that we might have a few Gibbering on sight, as well."

"A cluster wouldn't be surprising, if you think about it." Flo moved around to George's shoulder, spreading out the notes and taking them all in. "This spot in particular is probably littered with sink holes, I'd say. More than a few drownings over the years, especially if it was people looking to escape the Solitary."

"Very good point," George said, a small smirk in place. "Lockwood, any thoughts?"

The fourth contestant stood to the side, hand to his chin as he stared at a plasm stain on the training room floor. He had been silent this entire time, and again I felt my stomach plummet with the thought that he might not be as good as I hoped. Even after I had stood up for him in our brief meeting in the kitchen.

But a beat later, after hearing his name, he perked up and stepped in to join the tighter group we had started to form. "Sorry. I was just thinking about how the best option to deal with the Source would be to just drain the fields and salt them. Granted they could be anywhere within the marsh. So this might not be a very productive case."

He was right, of course. I hadn't even thought that far ahead.

"Only one way to find out, of course. George?"

"Aye?"

"You good to start on the research while I take the team to do the legwork?"

"Already thinking about the journals now."

I turned to the other potential agents and took a breath. Before I could speak, however, Flo held up her hand.

"If you don't mind," she started, "I'd rather stay behind and help George with the research."

He beamed. "Excellent suggestion."

"Alright. Then Godwin, Kipps, Lockwood, you're with me." I clapped George's shoulder and moved up to the back of the training room where our equipment was stored. The contestants each brought their own rapiers, which were set into the stand along with our extras.

We went through our packs; while not planning on staying the whole night, we would need to at least have the equipment ready should anything happened. As George had suggested, we doubled up on the magnesium flares, silver nets of various sizes, and some salt and lavender mix -- though I wasn't too sure how well that would work. Even the flares were questionable, as we would have to hope we threw them at solid ground or hard enough that they would break in the marsh.

After an initial scope, and George's research, we would know better what sort of equipment to bring. I jotted down a note to Holly to get us some silver stakes that we could use to plot out Source locations, or a secure spot for ourselves with our chains.

Everything secured, the four of us headed up into the kitchen with a small camera detachment. The would follow us to the sight, and our own personal Night Watch camera crew would join us later in the afternoon to take over.

We stepped into the midday sun, and I prayed that this would go well.


	5. Chapter 5

Holly had called ahead to announce that we were taking the case. After picking us up from the train station, the foreman talked about the condition of the land and answered our questions about the swamp and location of the spirits.

A path across secure ground had been marked with little wooden posts and fluorescent orange flags. We were dropped off as far as the truck could take us.

Despite it being early autumn, the dusk was already starting to set in. It would come quickly out here, with a heavy mist rising from the surface of the lake and marshes.

We set up a quick ring of chains on solid ground at the start of the path. If we had to stay later, it would serve as a good spot to retreat to. The camera crew were able to set up base here as well, though a smaller, more mobile unit would follow after us through the paths.

The plan was simple: Scope out for two hours, come back and to compare notes and meet up with our Night Watch camera crew. Then a light investigation of any 'hot spots' ("Haha don't you mean _cold spots_?" Lockwood asked, and if he didn't have such a charming smile when he said it and nudged me playfully in the side, I would have smacked him) before retreating back to the base and riding back to the far side of the lake.

Tomorrow evening would be the full investigation to see if there was anything we could be done. If not, Lockwood's solution of draining and salting the ground would likely be the final result.

The first half of the investigation went smoothly. Lockwood and Kipps walked in front, although it was still too light out to see any Death Glows. Kat and I followed, ears tuned but picking up nothing but the sounds of the marsh. I could hear a few strained chuckles and chatter the further in we moved and the darker it got -- which Kat confirmed. We couldn't pinpoint a location, which also confirmed my thought of the Gibbering cluster.

Evening rolled around and our normal camera crew was replaced by Night Watch kids -- more Sensitive than the adult crew, and capable enough at defending themselves from the stray Type Ones. I insisted on having at least some Sensitive types on our camera crew, to reduce the risk of an accident while on the job.

The mist rose during the staff switch, in which the four of us had a quick break for tea (brought from the house by the Night Watch crew, prepared by Holly) and biscuits. We triple checked our supplies and finished off our quick snack.

Lockwood's gaze was already trained on the path we had taken early, lips turned down in an unpleasant frown.

As the crew was still finalizing their last-minute prep for following after us, I stepped up to him and stood shoulder to shoulder with him in silence.

He let it go without comment for nearly a full minute. "Do you ever think that the origin of the will-o-the-wisp might have been a Death Glow?"

I looked up at him, then back out at the faint glows bouncing to either side of the path. "What do you mean?"

"Well, the legend that a little ball of light hovering just out of reach that causes people to stray from the path." He pointed, a sort of airy gesture that seemed somewhat uncharacteristic of him.

I hadn't thought about that. "Well, it would mean that the Problem has been going on for a lot longer than we originally thought, wouldn't it? Those are old stories."

His shoulders shook with a silent laugh. "You're right."

Kipps joined me on the other side. "We're ready to go when you are, Miss Carlyle."

I really didn't like it when anyone called me that. A frown tugged at my lips.

But Lockwood gave me a reassuring grin and said, "Shall we take the lead again, Lucy?" I hoped that it was dark enough to cover up what I honestly hoped wasn't a blush.

"After you. Godwin and I will take up the rear. Let's move out," I called.

Lockwood and Kipps struck out onto the path first, and I motioned to let Kat go ahead of me. She did, without hesitation, and I filed in the rear.

As a general rule, I disliked working with a camera crew. They were noisy, and interfered with my ability to Hear things. They maintained a respectful distance, but I still had to split my concentration between the task at hand and their presence.

A part of me felt bad for hiring on a new Agent under these conditions. They were good enough Agents to deserve work in a proper Agency, not a tiny one that ran without an adult supervisor and became the public face of the Problem. If money hadn't been an issue, I would have turned down the offer when Holly brought it up.

I forced myself to focus on the path beneath my feet, taking note of the soft glows floating just out of reach. Not enough to be any concern, though I could feel the miasma and creeping fear mingling in the swirls of mist. Our target was strong if it began to manifest this early after sundown.

The gibbering started again, and it took several paces for Kat's shoulders to stiffen in front of me.

We already had our rapiers drawn, and in the front, Kipps remarked, "Temperature dropping dramatically. Nearing forty-five degrees."

Kat had her chin tucked against her chest and her jacket zipped all the way up. "Chattering has started. Hard to pinpoint a direction."

"Godwin, Kipps, keep watch on the left side. Lockwood, you and I are on the right of the path." We split and moved in two units, carefully pacing along the still visible orange flags. The mist swirled around our legs.

We slowed as the temperature dropped further ("Forty degrees," Kipps called) and the chattering grew even louder.

I saw a shape in the distance, though I had to squint to make out the shaky shadows. But before I could step too far ahead, Lockwood caught my elbow and pointed with the tip of his rapier. "Mind the path," he said softly.

I nodded in thanks and moved back to the inside of the trail. "Anyone got a lock on a location?"

Lockwood shook his head, eyes squinted as he gazed out over the death glows in the marsh beyond. "Nothing distinct yet. The fog is getting in the way."

A negative came from Kat as well. "All I hear is the Gibbering Mist, and it's really starting to get annoying."

For once, I was inclined to agree with Kat, but I kept my mouth shut. "Kipps, anything?"

"Asides from it feels like I'm walking through pudding instead of fog? No, nothing."

Going into this blind was the exact opposite of what was needed. Not with a marsh to one side, and a lake encroaching on the other. I glanced behind me at the camera crew, carefully picking their way closer. Their infrared sensors would be enough to help them see their way, and the specially developed recording devices would pick up images for any Sensitive viewers.

"Alright everyone. We're going to regroup back at the base. The Solitary is staying out of our way for now, but we don't want to provoke it while unprepared. We'll check back in with George and Flo to see if they made any progress--" A shriek sounds out across the marsh and my shoulders lock and my heart to jump in my throat.

Everyone glanced in my direction. I barely registered that Kat seemed rather unfazed by the sound.

"Lucy?" Lockwood came up next to my side, and when his hand landed on my shoulder, I jumped in surprise.

"You didn't hear that?" I asked, the question addressed to the group at large even though I knew only Kat had the same Talent.

She narrowed her eyes, then closed them. I couldn't tell if she was annoyed at me or trying to concentrate, but I didn't push either way. It didn't take long, anyway, before another shriek broke through the silence of the marsh.

This time, Kat reacted by whirling back in the direction we had been going -- eyes flying open wide.

The shadow that I had since labeled as our Solitary, previously at a safe distance across the marsh, seemed to flit closer. The sounds from the Gibbering Mist shifted, turning into wheezing sobs and begging, _please, please, don't--_

"Everyone, back down the path. Now." I tried to keep the fear from my voice as I tugged Lockwood toward the camera crew with one hand. I sheathed my rapier, striding across the path to grab both Kat and Kipps.

She shook me off, a frown taking over the momentary surprise. "The Gibbering Mist won't hurt us. We need to stay put."

"That is exactly the _opposite_ of what we need to do right now, Kat." I attempted to shove her in the direction of the waiting and confused Lockwood and Kipps.

"I wouldn't have expected you to fall victim to the Solitary," she snarled, wrenching her arm free. "We can't go wandering off, or we will fall into the marsh."

"It's not that--"

"Then what is it?!"

My mouth opened, shut, then opened again. No words came. I couldn't explain, but I knew that the terror seething in the pit of my stomach wasn't the normal kind brought upon by a Solitary. It had nothing to do with the unnerving chattering by the Gibbering Mist -- or what used to be chatter.

It started whispering by this point. A harsh, grating susurrus that was laced with the occasional sob. The woman's voice is still crying _please, please, don't_.

"As the leader of this team," I bit out, "I order you to retreat."

We glared at each other for a handful of heartbeats before she shoved her rapier into its sheath and whirled about. Her blond bob flared out artfully, and it almost distracted me from her muttered, "Coward," once her back was turned.

I didn't know how to react. I stood frozen at the edge of the path, watching her retreat toward the camera crew. "Excuse me?" I couldn't even be bothered with the way my voice jumped an octave and broke over the simple question.

She tossed a look at me over her shoulder. "You heard me. Stunts for viewers and the likes. We should logically stay here, and yet you--"

"This has _nothing_ to do with viewer ratings! This has to do with me ensuring my team's safety, and my crew's safety!" I wanted to stomp over to her, to storm past all of them and force them to follow behind me. But my legs wouldn't move. My hands remained clenched into fists at my sides and my breath swirled into the fog.

From just behind Kat, Lockwood's gaze tore away from me and jumped over my shoulder. "The shadow is gone--" he said, fingers tightening around his rapier.

Before I could get the chance to react, a shriek tore through my mind with brute force. My knees buckled beneath me, and I stumbled back off the path with my hands clamped to my ears.

Dimly, I was aware of Kat reacting similarly. But my lungs squeezed the last bit of air from my body in a pained gasp.

The shrieking didn't stop. I could make out the idea of words, the begging and the crying as she struggled, _please, please, don't_ , trying to fight off her attacker.

I blinked, trying to see through tears, and suddenly Lockwood stood in front of me, hands on my wrists and tugging me back onto the path. I shook, from the cold, from the fear, her fear seeping in, my hands pressed against the sides of my head doing little to keep out the voice echoing inside. I tried to fight him off, confusing myself for a moment, before his arms curled around my waist and he lifted me off my feet and set me back on solid ground.

He was saying something, but all I could hear was the screaming. Kat was doubled over, supported by Kipps, and the Night Watch crew was getting this all on camera.

Bet it would look very funny to anyone watching without the sound on.

A small laugh managed to work its way through my lips, but it didn't stay there for long.

Still, I let Lockwood lead me back to the group -- catching me as I stumbled and taking over when I couldn't form words.

Somehow, we made it back to our circle. My boots felt unwieldy as Lockwood helped me over the chains, and I dropped to the ground as soon as I was inside. I could breathe again, and the sound came rushing back into my ears in a haze of static.

"What--" Kat gasped, tripping in after me. "What was--?"

"Screaming Spirit would be my guess," Lockwood said. He stood close to me, poised and ready to go for the cameras, but I had felt the trembling of his grip as he hauled me down the path. After a moment of hesitation, he dropped down next to me. "You okay there, Lucy?"

I nodded, still gulping in air. But then I used his shoulders to shove myself upright and I launched myself in Kat's direction.

Everyone gave a startled yelp of surprise.

Kipps was faster, stepping in to catch me before I could pitch forward and smack Kat's snobbish face. "Woah--"

"What were you thinking?" I yelled, voice cracking like I had been the one screaming. Perhaps I had been. My mouth was dry, my throat burned. "Were you trying to get us killed?"

"It wouldn't have hurt us--" Kat yelled back, but her voice lacked conviction. "It has no physical manifestation."

I didn't need to tell her how my head felt like it was about to split apart. She knew. "Word of advice for when you look for your next Agency, Kat Godwin," I spat, shaking off Kipps and straightening my jacket. "Don't insult your senior officer like that. They give you an order, you listen to it or you give a damn good reason why you think you shouldn't."

Voicing an opinion was one thing. Calling the team leader a coward and disobeying on sheer principle was another.

The tips of her ears burned bright red, even in the shoddy lights set up by the Night Crew. We were out of the danger zone, and would regroup mentally before cleaning up and heading back to where the Foreman waited for us at the building sight. Kat didn't wait.

She took off without a word, back ramrod straight.

Kipps glanced at me, concern in his expression. He started to say something, but cut himself off when I glared at him. "I'll go check on her," he offered, and started off towards the far end of the circle.

Before he could cross the iron chains, he paused and turned back to me. "I would like to officially withdraw from the competition, Miss Carlyle. I was not as much help as I would have liked to be out there."

I nodded, numb, the fight leaving me as soon as Kat had left.

"I will finalize it with Holly when we get back." With a polite, jerky nod, Kipps stepped out of the chains and followed after the blonde blob that signified the retreating form of Kat.

The Night Watch crew remained silent, two of the cameras still filming. A third left to follow Kipps and Kat.

I hated this. I hated the way we were turned into a spectacle. How this would just be used to boost ratings.

Lockwood coughed awkwardly. "This is hardly how I imagined I would get hired," he said, attempting to lighten the mood.

I forced a lopsided grin in place, not quite feeling it enough, but needing to put for the effort. "It's not quite official yet. For all you know, Flo could astound me with her research abilities."

His smile widened, because he knew as well as I did that Flo didn't want his position on the team. She would be happy with books, and while I would be happy to have both, Holly wanted to limit us to one new hire at the moment.

"Then I'll just have to astound you with my fancy ghost catching skills tomorrow," he said.

"If you can use them against a ghost that can't manifest, I will indeed be very impressed."

His good-natured laugh was not enough to chase away the lingering unease from the spirit.

**Author's Note:**

> Stay tuned for whenever I can manage to complete part 2!!


End file.
